I have always been a more-is-better personality. I see that trait in most others so I figure I am normal. However, I have always pushed more to the limit, often to the breaking point. I suppose in this regard I am a bit abnormal. As I became a ‘lao tzu’ (i.e., 老子 = old person, father) my age and aching bones led me to approach things a little differently, and happily with unexpectedly positive results.
A key phrase from chapter 48 (1) is my lodestar. It goes like this: One does less and less until one does nothing at all, and when one does nothing at all there is nothing that is undone. That may sound silly on the face of it. Given the ‘Just Do It’ culture we live in, it is essential to read between the lines of this guiding light.
The reason more-is-better drives me is because I have always inherently felt that approach would give me what I need. I say inherently felt because it has been an innate subconscious drive all of my life. Only after repeatedly hitting the wall, as it were, did I begin to examine that side of my nature more deeply.
More-is-better is about quantity. We have a common and innate expectation that if we do something more, we will be better off. That means more practice, more study, more work, more money, more charity, more eating healthy, more exercise, more friends, more fame, more sex, more justice, more peace… more of whatever we value.
If we were living in the wild like other animals, the more-is-better drive would usually turn out to be healthy and balanced. Thanks to civilization, we live more comfortable and secure lives than animals in the wild. However, we are biologically still an animal, which means we have a lot more survival energy to spend than most civilized circumstances demand. The result: we innately overdo action by pursuing a more-is-better path in whatever activity we feel important. Survival instincts are always driving us regardless of circumstances.
As it happens, life naturally follows a pattern pointed out in chapter 36,
If you would have a thing shrink, You must first stretch it;
If you would have a thing weakened, You must first strengthen it;
If you would have a thing laid aside, You must first set it up;
If you would take from a thing, You must first give to it.
It took me a lifetime, but I have finally laid much of this more-is-better aside, except for more time. Time is too mysterious and ephemeral to manipulate, yet it still conforms to the pattern. You might say, birth sets up time and death lays aside time.
Another ideal, less-is-more, has attracted attention in recent times. This 19th century expression parallels chapter 48 above, and rings true for many stressed out people these days. It appears that civilization has finally reached a point where too much of a good thing has become a widespread reality.
Less-is-more is about quality. The most amazing thing I have found is that attention to quality in what I do is so much more effective than my innate impulses ever led me to feel. Indeed, one minute in quality equals hours in quantity. To this day, I must maintain a constant background awareness of this life truth: Less is truly more.
In summary: Really trusting that less-is-more can deliver what no amount of doing more ever can. Yet, nothing is ever that easy, is it? The hitch lies in trusting less-is-more viscerally enough to influence daily actions. Experience is the key. All you need do is prove to yourself through personal experience that less truly is more, and that quality trumps quantity. Well… at least that gets the ball rolling in the right direction.
(1) The following The Tao Te Ching, Word for Word translation of chapter 48 stays closer to the literal Chinese. See the online commentary on this chapter for a slightly different angle.
Do knowledge, day by day increase.
Do the way, day by day decrease.
Decreasing and decreasing,
Use until without doing.
Without doing yet not undone.
Some more about recycling of atoms (“there are about 200 billion Shakespearean atoms in each of us” and Buddha and LaoZi and …)
He was what I call a small ‘t’ taoist. Note the small ‘t’. Of course he could have been ‘into’ Taoism, and just kept quiet about it, which would be a smart thing to do all things considered. He really seems to have a keen sense of the complementary nature of ‘something’ and ‘nothing’, etc.
That “fear” he refers to is the bio-hoodwink, as I call it. Fear, and its offspring need, is the prime mover of living things. Our cognitive ability to create names and a self identity makes us feel intrinsically “separated from the oneness”, which only increases our sense of insecurity (fear).
This is ironic given how ‘Oneness’ and the ‘Void’ produce each other. The more we attach ourselves to names and identity, the more at odds we feel with the complementary nature of ‘Oneness’ and ‘Nothing-ness’. That drives us to rush around and do things more frantically. This leaves us feeling even more “separated from the oneness”. Alcohol, opiates, meditation, prayer, etc., are various tried and true ways folks use to cozy up to emptiness.
I recall when I first really viscerally experienced that sense of being recycled star dust. The more viscerally I feel eternity, the less ‘getting it done’ means. It is all ‘done’, countless times over. I imagine this is a common experience for most of us as we age, to one degree or another depending on… well, something of which I’m not quite sure. I expect also that many who experience this sense of ‘one-ness, done-ness’ can’t find the words to express it as well as Carlin did. And no wonder–his skill was with words and ‘thinking outside the box’.
Thanks for sharing that.
What do you think of this George Carlin quote? As it relates to Taoism, and chapter 48?
“Some time ago I figured out with the help of some reading that I can’t recall now that, if it’s true that we’re all from the center of a star, every atom in each of us from the center of a star, then we’re all from the same thing, and even a coke machine or a cigarette butt on the street in Buffalo are made out of atoms that came from a star. They’ve all been recycled thousands of times as have you and I. So, if that is true, and I am everywhere in the universe, in an extended sense, and therefore, it’s only me out here, so what is there to be afraid of? What is there that needs solace-seeking? Nothing. There’s nothing to be afraid of, because it’s all us.
So, I just have that as a backdrop, and I don’t have to go to it or think of it consciously. I’ve kind of accepted the idea that I’m perfectly safe and that life, nature, have waves and troughs, ups and downs, left and right, black and white, night and day, fall and winter, positive and negative. Everything has an opposite. If I have a bad time, I’ll have a good time coming. If it’s a good time, I’m prepared to have a bad time to sort of pay for it. So, nothing really upsets me. The trouble is, we’ve been separated from being that universe by being born we’ve been given a name and an identity and being individuated and separated from the oneness”